


Beca Got Run Over By A Reindeer

by carma19



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carma19/pseuds/carma19
Summary: The title sums it up pretty well. Beca gets run over by a reindeer.





	Beca Got Run Over By A Reindeer

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Pitchmas gift for the Tumblr Merry Pitchmas Gift Exchange 2018 :D
> 
> This one-shot could be considered a sequel to my “Wishbone: A Very Bechloe Thanksgiving” fic, but it also works as a standalone! Set during PP2 and Jesse was only a freshman/sophomore year thing for Beca so he’s not involved here.

Beca Mitchell didn’t have time for Christmas. 

Seriously. Senior year was kicking the everloving shit out of her and she wasn’t sure she was gonna make it until graduation in May, let alone stupid Christmas in a week. Aside from trying to panic-process the not-so-encouraging feedback from her boss at her Residual Heat internship, she’d been struggling to juggle her half-finished job applications, her slow-going work on the Bellas’ setlist for Worlds, her mentoring of Legacy, and the four classes she had to pass to actually graduate in five months.

On top of it all, there was this _thing_ with Chloe. The thing where they started fooling around. Where Chloe confessed she wanted to do more _experimenting_ with girls, which led them to agreeing they both could use some casual sex but didn’t want the pressure of getting to know someone new or try _dating_ anyone, because ugh. Who had time or patience for that?

So the thing started off casual. It was kind of weird, at first. And not just because she started fooling around with her best friend but because, well…

Sex with Chloe was fucking _incredible_.

Beca wasn’t sure what she expected. She had a pretty good idea that Chloe was good in bed in general, based on some evidence gathered over the years--her stellar reputation, her knowledgeable contributions to Stacie-generated conversation topics, and the few unfortunate times she was forced to listen to Chloe with a bedmate. (Chloe wasn’t quiet or subtle in any arena, as it turned out.)

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised about the insane level of chemistry between them. Not when they always seemed to be two halves of a whole. Best friends, co-captains. Bright and dark. Yin and yang. They’d always been two sides of the same coin. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising to Beca that their pact to keep this friends-with-benefits arrangement chill and uncomplicated was more difficult than she thought it would be. Maybe it was happening more often than Beca originally thought it would, and maybe Beca felt sort of powerless to stop it because _god_ , it was good. (Did she mention that already? It was good. Really damn good.) It was good and totally worth chiseling into her precious sleep time. 

So yeah. Beca had never been so busy, and Christmas and Christmas-related stuff simply wasn’t gonna happen for her this year.

Which was _fine_ by her because she really never gave a shit about Christmas. Christmas had always been a stressful time for her as a kid, with her parents fighting over her or (unintentionally) guilting her for going to one house over another. 

Despite the Bellas house having been decorated by the other girls for a couple weeks now, Beca hadn’t put much thought into pointless Christmas until the night before, after one of her and Chloe’s _stress relief sessions_. They lay together on Chloe’s bed, naked and sated and their skin slightly warm and sticky with sweet sweat, Chloe’s body pressed against Beca’s from behind. 

Beca’s eyes fluttered shut, the post-orgasmic neurochemicals working to tug her toward much needed slumber. Her breath caught when she felt Chloe’s lips brush her bare shoulder, soft and tender and unhurried--a sharp contrast from the heated, passion-fueled, verging on desperate hungry kisses of earlier. 

Beca liked both kinds of Chloe kisses just as much. 

“Whaddya want for Christmas, Becs?” Chloe’s voice carried in a sleepy whisper in the calm space around them. She dropped another few kisses to Beca’s shoulder.

Beca shivered in Chloe’s arms as her answer sprung to mind embarrassingly quick. _I want you, Chlo. I want more than this… whatever it is. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want everything with you._ Heat rushed to her cheeks when she processed the pathetic plea that almost spilled from her lips and she clamped her mouth shut, grateful for the darkness of the room and the fact that Chloe couldn’t see her pained, flushed face. 

Because she couldn’t tell Chloe that. Because they had an agreement to not make things complicated, to keep things casual. She couldn’t risk screwing up everything they’d built because she had to go and do something stupid like catch feelings. 

Not trusting her voice yet, she shrugged.

She should’ve known Chloe wouldn’t accept that. A hoarse, amused chuckle echoed near Beca’s ear.

Chloe’s lips ghosted over the crook of her neck and shoulder. Beca’s breath caught she shuddered again.

“You’re gonna make me guess?”

God, she could _feel_ that perfect mouth curving into a smile against her skin. 

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Beca mumbled. “M’not really a Christmas person.”

“Mmm… that’s what you say every year,” Chloe murmured back before heaving an exasperated sigh. “Dooo yooou… want a new pair of headphones?”

Beca snorted. “Chlo, good headphones are expensive as hell. Plus m’pretty happy with my Sennheiser Pros and my back-up Beats--” 

“Okay, okay, headphones snob,” Chloe teased, huffing a chuckle in the darkness as she gently squeezed Beca’s hip. “New laptop cover? Some new punky-hot earrings?” She reached up to trace her finger along the shell of Beca’s ear, bumping over the metallic hardware she passed along the way. “...an iTunes gift card? A super cozy sweatshirt? Makeup? A new scarf? A pair of--”

“Chloe,” Beca said, cutting her off at the pass. Despite her exhaustion, she carefully twisted in Chloe’s arms to face her. 

Undeterred, Chloe pressed on, squinting with teasing curiosity as her fingertips traced nonsensical patterns over the small of Beca’s back. “How about a baby goldfish in a cute little fishbowl? Or some new kicks? Oooh, I saw a coffee mug that says ‘ _If you’re reading this stay the bleep away from me_ ’--that seems pretty you, huh? Or--”

Beca leaned in and took Chloe’s lower lip between her teeth, nibbling with the pressure that she knew Chloe liked before popping it free. “Or we could do more of this, ‘cause that’s better than all that stuff…” 

Chloe hummed and Beca could’ve sworn she felt Chloe tremble a little in her arms before she narrowed her gaze in a heatless glare. “I know your game, Mitchell, but you can’t totally distract me from this. I’ll figure out how to get some Christmas spirit into you somehow…” 

Beca groaned, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I just hate Christmas.”

“ _For now._ ” Chloe countered, that competitive glint sparkling in her eyes as her hand slipped between Beca’s legs, seemingly relenting on the Christmas wish request for the moment.

Beca groaned again, but for a much better reason this time. As she sealed her mouth over Chloe’s, Beca decided she could totally handle being a Scrooge, _especially_ if she was getting laid on the regular. 

*

Thanks to her rigorous schedule, Beca managed to miss the Bellas’ Christmas cookie baking and decorating party, their trip to visit a Mall Santa for a silly Bellas Christmas card (Flo insisted she’d photoshop Beca’s face in), and this year’s door-to-door Aca-caroling. That last one earned the most protest from the Bellas, but Beca shot them a look and pinned them with a ‘Would you rather have me singing Christmas songs with you, or would you rather I work on our setlist for Worlds? Because I can’t actually do both’.

She knew she was disappointing the girls. She knew her grinchy spirit brought down the mood. So really, it was better that she just… stay away. And that was her plan.

Until the next morning, when Emily found out that Beca planned on working at the studio all day. 

Those wide, innocent doe eyes shined with disappointment across the kitchen counter as she paused, her spoon piled with Fruit Loops halfway to her mouth. “What do you _mean_ you’re not coming to watch the parade with us?”

Beca grimaced as she fixed her coffee, her bag slung across her body and headphones perched around her neck. “I’m sorry, Legacy. I’ve got, like, a million things to do, and I’m behind on my project for my internship, and I accidentally let it slip to my boss that I can sing and he wants me to lay down some background stuff for Snoop and--”

“ _But it’s the Barden Winter Wonderland Parade, Beca._ My first one! Your _last_ one! We’re all going together and you’re our _Captain!_ ”

“ _Okay._ ” Beca puffed out a frustrated breath, accidentally pouring too much creamer into her travel coffee mug but it was too late to brew a new pot. She screwed the lid on with more force than necessary. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you at the parade, okay? I’ll be there.”

Emily brightened. “Oh-em-gee, you promise??”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, ” Beca said. “Gotta go now, I’ll see you later.” With that, she bolted out of the house. 

*

Work sucked. 

Sammy didn’t like her latest mash-up (or any of her mash-ups) and finally suggested she find something _original_ to say, which… she had nothing. Nada. Zilch. Her whole life had been mash-ups because that was kind of her thing and she was really damn good at them. But she needed something else. Something new. She needed to... find her voice or some cliche bullshit like that, which… cool, it wasn’t like she had 800 other things to do.

Frustrated tears stung Beca’s eyes as she trudged through the annoyingly packed Barden quad in a more irate mood than usual, her favorite headphones secured tightly over her ears blaring a pulsing early 2000s R&B mash-up, her attempt to drown out the world around her while she decompressed. She’d walked the same route every day, her body moving on autopilot as she kept her head down, grumbling when she hit an unexpected wall of people on the sidewalk, most of them taller than her (as per usual). She wedged between them, needing to cross the damn street to get back to the Bellas house. She took a few strides off the curb and…

“ _Beca, stop!_ ”

Emily’s desperate cry pierced through her blasting music and in slow motion, or so it seemed, she lifted her gaze across the street to find the Bellas huddled together on the sidewalk in front of their house, staring at her with growing expressions of shock morphing to horror on their faces, waving their arms wildly as if trying to catch her attention before--

In her periphery, she spotted something moving--something _large_ , and she turned and froze as two horses-wearing-antlers trotted directly at her. _The parade. The motherfucking parade._ That explained the crowd. That explained the Bellas all clustered outside. That explained the massive horses _coming at her_.

“Oh, _shit_ \--” she breathed, eyes widening in horror as her body went rigid, frozen by panic. 

The horses whinnied as the jockey-dressed-as-Santa spotted Beca too late, yanking back too hard on the reins and causing one ‘reindeer’ to rear back on its hind legs and kick Beca square in the chest, sending her flying to the gravely road. 

Beca’s messenger bag flew in one direction, her headphones in another, and she smacked her head on the pavement, knocking her out cold.

* 

The first time Beca woke up, her eyelids peeled and parted as heavy slits and she groaned at the bright-as-fuck light invading her pupils. Voices carried, muffled at first, on either side of her and when she inhaled she smelled… that gross sanitation smell that only hospitals and dental offices carried. It turned her stomach.

“Beca?” Her dad’s voice sounded a mile away, but his hand slipped into hers and it helped quell the rising panic bubbling within her. “Beca, honey. You’re in the hospital. You’re gonna be okay. Can you talk to us?”

She struggled again to force her insanely heavy eyelids wider as her eyes adjusted somewhat to the fluorescent light shining overhead. “S’going on?” Her sluggish brain finally caught up with her, putting the pieces together. _Hospital_. Shit. She moved to sit up and a sharp cry tore from her throat, piercing the room as she felt another hand on her shoulder, easing her back down. Pain seared, tightening through her sore-as-fuck chest. 

“Easy, Beca. You had a nasty spill.” The woman’s voice sounded like her mom’s but it wasn’t, though it held the same warmth. “Please try to relax, I promise you’re in good hands. I’m Dr. Edwards. Do you remember what happened?” 

Beca grimaced, the horse-wearing-antlers flashing before her eyes. “A motherfuckin’ reindeer knocked me out,” she said. “M’not sure which one--Dasher or Dancer or Fuckface or Shitstain--”

“Beca…” her dad admonished softly.

The doctor only laughed. “I’ve never heard of _those_ reindeer, but the horse kicked you in your lower chest, knocking you down. You hit your head pretty hard, so you’ve got a concussion. The kick fractured two of your ribs just under your left breast, and your right wrist fractured in the fall.” 

As the doctor described Beca’s injuries, she glanced down to peek beneath the hospital gown to find her left side badly bruised and swollen, and then she glanced at her right arm, in a soft splint. 

“We’ll get that wrist in a hard cast once the orthopaedist visits tomorrow. You’re very lucky, Beca. Your injuries could’ve been much worse considering the circumstances. With the force of the horse’s kick, your rib could’ve punctured your lung.” 

Okay, but her lung wasn’t punctured, so the doctor didn’t need to be so damn dramatic. It wasn’t making her feel better, hearing that it could’ve been worse. A sudden, soft gasp emitted from Beca and she looked around with a frantic look in her eye, even though she couldn’t see very much from her half-reclined position with her dad and Dr. Edwards standing on either side. “My headphones. Where--where’s my--”

Dr. Mitchell offered a sympathetic grin, tightening his grip on her hand. “We’ll get you a new pair, Bec. Don’t you worry about that.” He reached over to her bedside table and held up her mangled Sennheisers, the headband cracked in half and one of the ear cups crushed beyond repair. 

Her heart clenched and she closed her eyes, that being the last straw. Of course this would happen to her. Of course Christmas had to get even worse than it always had been. Another frustrated tear slipped free and she swallowed the lump in her throat, willing back the emotion that threatened to burst.

“How badly does it hurt, Beca? Scale from one to ten, ten being the worst pain imaginable.” 

“Eight,” she croaked, not sure what was throbbing harder--her concussed head, her cracked ribs, her broken wrist, or her severely trampled upon pride. “Maybe nine.” She wanted the good stuff, at the very least.

“Okay, sweetheart. We’ll get some dilaudid injected into your IV bag. It should take the pain away. In the meantime, your only job is to relax. Try to sleep off as much of this as possible, let your body do the healing work from here. We’ll try to get you discharged in a few days.”

Beca’s dad leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, kiddo. You’re in good hands with Dr. Edwards here. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” 

The dilaudid worked quick, a soothing rush of heat rolling through her body like a wave as instant pain relief washed over her. Beca waited until her dad left and Dr. Edwards left her alone to let out the tears full force. 

She cried herself to sleep. 

*

When Beca woke the second time, she forced herself to eat some shitty hospital food. 

The orthopaedist casted her arm below her elbow to secure her fractured wrist. 

She managed to text Sammy to tell him she wouldn’t be back to the studio for a little while. ( _’Got it. Merry Christmas, Reggie.’_ was the reply.)

She Facetimed with her mom back in Seattle, apologized that she wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. 

She felt shitty about it. About all of it. 

Dr. Edwards administered more pain medication and she drifted back to sleep.

*

The third time Beca woke, other familiar voices pulled her further into consciousness. 

“Did you even _see_ that hot beardy doctor, though? He could give me a breast exam any day.” 

“Stacie, please.” 

“Oh-em-aca-gee, you guys, it looks so great in here! Do you think Beca’s gonna like it?”

“Probably not.” 

Beca struggled to open her eyes, squinting hard to let her pupils adjust as natural light filtered through the room this time. 

“Look, she’s awake!”

“Ladies,” Aubrey’s authoritative tone cut through the excited chorus. “Give Beca a moment to wake up in peace.” 

“Aubrey?” Beca’s brow furrowed as she blinked up at her former captain. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I called her,” Chloe said, beaming at Beca from the foot of the bed. “She drove out from the lodge just to make sure you were okay.” 

“I can’t believe you didn’t look both ways before trying to cross the street,” Aubrey chided.

Chloe winced. “Bree, can you not--” 

“Now that she’s not dead it was pretty awesome, actually,” Amy interjected. “The _air_ you got… _damn_ , Roadkill. Seriously impressive. That reindeer-horse dropkicked you like a football.”

“Thanks, dude,” Beca grumbled, rolling her eyes. 

“Amy.” Aubrey shot a warning glare at the Aussie before returning her attention to Beca. “We’re glad you’re okay, and most importantly, that you’re going to be all healed up so you can go full-throttle at Worlds.” 

Beca bit the inside of her cheek. Worlds. “Yeah… yeah m’gonna be fine.” Ugh, she still had to figure out the damn setlist…

“She’s gonna be aca-awesome, good as new,” Chloe declared, flashing her a warm smile that made Beca’s insides twist for a different reason.

When the girls backed up a bit on Aubrey’s orders, Beca finally noticed the room. They’d decorated a Christmas tree in the corner, strung up colored Christmas lights around the perimeter of the space, and somehow hung paper snowflakes from the ceiling. 

“Do you like it??” Emily’s voice was too eager, too endearing for Beca to shoot down.

Beca still didn’t like Christmas, but she had to admit that she’d much prefer a Christmas decorated room than a bleak hospital room. More than that, she very much appreciated her friends. Seriously, she didn’t deserve them. Forcing back the emotion that threatened, she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Yeah, Legacy, it’s awesome. Thanks.” 

“Can I draw something dirty on your cast?” Amy asked, with Stacie and Cynthia Rose chuckling in support. 

“Hell no,” Beca declared, glancing down to her purple-wrapped plaster cast the orthopaedist had given her earlier in the day. “If you come at me with a sharpie, I’m calling security.” 

Cynthia Rose laughed as she reached over and settled a wrapped box on Beca’s blanket-covered lap. “No worries, short stack. I forgot my sharpie, but Santa felt bad for your clumsy ass and delivered one of your presents early.” 

Beca blinked down at the gift, shaking her head. “You guys really didn’t have to--”

“Open it!” Emily’s excited squeal combined with the girls’ expectant, hopeful smiles had Beca quirking a brow.

Tugging on the bow with her uninjured hand, she lifted the lid and her breath caught when she pulled back the tissue paper. “ _Seriously??_ Holy shit, you guys…” Beca’s eyes flickered up to the Bellas, scanning each of their faces again before she glanced back down to the brand new pair of Sennheiser Pros--the newer model of the pair that got crushed on the street. “This--this is amazing. You’re all--you’re the best. I can’t believe…” Words failed her as she reached out to reverently run her fingertips along one of the soft microfiber earpads. Struggling to keep her composure, she took a deep breath before looking back up to her friends. “Thank you.” 

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Chloe said, reaching out to gently squeeze her ankle over the blankets and pinning her with a meaningful, teary look that made Beca’s breath catch. “You gave us all one heck of a scare back there.” 

“Pardon me, girls.” Dr. Edwards stepped between Jessica and Ashley to grin at Beca. “I might have to steal your friends, Beca. The rest of the hospital could use some more holiday cheer.”

Beca huffed a laugh, grimacing when the strain put painful pressure on her healing ribs. “Yeah, m’sure you could hire ‘em. They’re like Santa’s demented worker elves. They love this shit.” 

The Bellas chuckled in a chorus but stepped back, gathering together on the far side of the bed to give Dr. Edwards space to work. 

“What’s your pain level, Beca?”

Beca sniffled and shakily lifted the box with her new headphones to set on the bedside table beside the flowers Sheila had brought her yesterday. “Uh… like, seven or eight, I guess.” 

Some of the girls winced upon hearing that. 

“No problem. We’ll get you some more pain medicine, get you back to sleep.” She motioned for the nurse to administer another dose of dilaudid into Beca’s IV bag. 

Amy smiled. “Hey, doc, can I get me some of that?”

“She’s kidding!” Aubrey said as Dr. Edwards’ brow shot up. “We’ll stay out of your way.” 

“The pain medication will make Beca very sleepy in a few minutes, so you might want to say your goodbyes soon. I’ll be back to check in on you later.” With a reassuring grin, Dr. Edwards bustled out of the room, her white coat billowing behind her. 

“I’d do her, too,” Stacie muttered to Flo, a salacious smile twisting her painted lips as Flo muttered something in Spanish under her breath. 

“Hey, Beca, how do you feel about a little lullaby?” Cynthia Rose asked, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips.

Stacie gasped and nodded, and Emily began vibrating with anticipation. 

“You guys,” Chloe warned, a warm laugh brightening her smile as she shook her head. “Maybe now’s not the best time--”

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Chloe,” Aubrey said, a rare, naughty twinkle in her eye as she nudged her best friend. 

“This is an Emily Junk original,” Amy declared. “So that’s why it could use some intensive work--but we were working with limited time.” She turned to Chloe. “O Captain, My Captain?” 

With a heavy sigh, Chloe cast an apologetic look to Beca as she pulled the official Bellas pitch pipe from her pocket, blowing into it for their lead in note. 

They crooned through a few bars of harmonies, the on-point pitch instantly bringing a proud grin to Beca’s lips. And then…

_Beca got run over by a reindeer_  
_Walking through Barden’s Winter Parade--_

Beca’s jaw fell slack. “Are you serious--”

Aubrey shushed her as they continued singing without missing a beat.

_You can say she hates Christmas and Santa_  
_But Stacie says she just needs to get laid_

Beca chuckled, her cheeks flushing as she pointedly avoided eye contact with Chloe. “Dude, rude!”

_She’s been too stressed this semester_  
_And we begged her to relax_  
_But she ignored our cheery cheer-ups_  
_Stuck in the studio, layin’ tracks_

“Nice one, Em,” Beca interjected, and Emily flashed her a thumbs up in return. 

_When we finally found her Friday_  
_Rudolph kicked her in the tit_  
_She’ll bounce back ‘cause she’s a badass_  
_That’s our Beca, she’s the shit._

Beca shook her head slowly, struggling to wipe the amused grin from her lips and keep her heavy eyelids open as she listened to the rest of that ridiculous rewritten song, the girls looping back to the chorus. 

_Beca got run over by a reindeer_  
_Walking through Barden’s Winter Parade_  
_You can say she hates Christmas and Santa_  
_But Stacie says she just needs to get laid_

“Hate you nerds,” she mumbled, an exasperated yet achingly fond smile plastered on her expression as sleep finally took her once more. 

“We love you too, Beca,” Chloe replied softly before quietly ushering the girls from Beca’s room. 

*

Barden General Hospital sat darker and eerily quiet on Christmas Eve night. Beca’s sleep schedule was all sorts of fucked up thanks to the past five days of mostly drug-induced slumber binges. Her dad had left hours ago when visiting hours ended. The Bellas, after their entertaining group visit, all hopped on trains and planes to spend Christmas with their families. 

The good news came earlier that day, when Dr. Edwards said she was pleased with the progress of Beca’s healing. Beca’s ribs and wrist, while still sore, would heal in time… as long as Beca followed doctor’s orders. After five days, she’d been allowed to shower, and that--along with the promise of discharge the next day--seemed to lift her Grinchy spirits at least a little bit.

Beca’s dad had dropped off her laptop earlier, and she sat for hours with her mixing program open and her shiny new Sennheisers secured over her ears, losing herself in mash-ups that didn’t feel right for their Worlds set _yet_ but maybe she was on the right track.

She caught a figure in her periphery--a nurse stopping by for her regularly scheduled vitals checks--not bothering to look up until the nurse leaned against the doorframe and didn’t sweep in with a clipboard. Beca glanced up and her eyes bulged.

Chloe. 

Not a nurse, but Chloe Beale, standing there looking absolutely knockout gorgeous in her emerald green knee-length wrap dress under an open ivory-colored peacoat with a pair of strappy red heels. She’d styled her hair and makeup as though she was ready for a night on the town and it took a few seconds for Beca’s concussed brain to reboot itself. When it had, she only managed a pitiful “Uh…”

Chloe beamed, a mischievous glint in her eye as she took in Beca’s reaction. 

Beca scrambled to tug her headphones off and hit pause on her mixing loop with a shaky finger. “What--what’re you--aren’t you going home?”

“Well, technically I have more than one home now,” Chloe reasoned, slipping her peacoat off her shoulders and tossing it over the arm of the nearby chair. “And I didn’t wanna leave you all alone on Christmas.”

“Chlo, I hate Christmas,” she reminded her for what felt like the 900th time. 

“And I’m on a mission to change that, remember? I’m pretty dedicated.” She bit the lower lip of her grin. Without so much as a glance behind her, Chloe tugged the tie on her wrap dress; the material fell open in the front to reveal--

“Holy _shit_.” Beca’s uncasted hand clamped over her mouth to prevent any other embarrassing exclamations from flying free but her eyes never left Chloe’s body.

Chloe’s body now on display to her, clad in a super low-cut, red lace-trimmed silk chemise that _barely_ hit her thighs and _holy shit._

Clearly, Beca’s reaction was everything Chloe hoped for, her lower lip popping free as her grin grew to a wolfish smile. “There are more ways to enjoy Christmas than the Christmasy stuff you don’t like, y’know,” she said breezily, sauntering toward the side of her hospital bed, keeping her back to the doorway. “And maybe you never liked Christmas _before_ , but maybe that’s because we haven’t found what makes Christmas merry for _you_ , Becs.” Chloe tossed Beca a wink before gently shutting the laptop lid and lifting it away, turning to walk back toward the chair and bending over much more than necessary to set it down safely, giving Beca an eyeful of her most perfect ass and the matching red thong beneath.

Beca groaned and licked her lips, not doing a very convincing job of regaining her composure as Chloe returned to her bedside. “How--how’d you even manage--visiting hours were over forever ago…”

Chloe waved her hand dismissively, a sly smirk pulling on her painted lips. “Well first, I brought the nurses a tray of freshly baked Christmas cookies. And then I told them I’m your girlfriend so they said I could have an after-hours hour to bring you some Christmas cheer.” 

Beca’s mouth went dry. “My…” 

“Don’t worry about it, Becs,” Chloe assured her, dragging her red painted nails up Beca’s forearm. “I told you I wouldn’t let this get complicated. You believe me, right?” 

A hoarse chuckle burst out of Beca while goosebumps prickled on her skin in Chloe’s fingers’ wake. “Dude, we’re waaay past complicated. You skipped out on Christmas with your parents and you’re here--wearing _that_ \--” She glanced downward to find Chloe bowing forward slightly, revealing quite a view into her cleavage. “--holy shit, uh--” 

“I didn’t think you’d be complaining,” Chloe teased, pitching her voice lower as she took Beca’s hand and pressed her palm flat over her stomach, urging it upward. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do!” Beca croaked, clearing her throat in a weak-ass effort to maintain some chill. Her fingers splayed over the silky fabric and she could’ve sworn she felt heat radiating from Chloe’s skin beneath. Her own body thumped with a reminder of how damn good it was, being with Chloe like this. Instant arousal hit her in a sharp, pleasant contrast to the varying degrees of pain she’d been experiencing since the accident. “Jesus, you look fucking incredible in this thing,” Beca murmured, ghosting her fingers upward to graze the underside of Chloe’s breast through the silky fabric. 

A pleasant hum reverberated from Chloe’s lips and she urged Beca’s hand upward yet again, coaxing her to cup her more fully. Chloe shivered at the contact, but she couldn’t seem to resist the wry smile spreading on her lips. “Not as hot as you look in that hospital gown.” 

Beca huffed a strained laugh, rolling her eyes as her thumb circled the silky fabric over Chloe’s nipple, marveling at how it peaked and pebbled through the material at her touch. She bit down hard on her lip to stifle a groan. 

A gentle rap on the doorframe had Beca pulling hand back to herself so quickly it was as though Chloe’s body burned her. Chloe, with her back to the doorway, hurriedly re-tied her wrap dress before turning around to smile sweetly at the nurse. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve gotta do a quick vitals check. Last one ‘til I’m waking you up in the middle of the night.” 

“Yeah, okay. I know the drill.” Beca struggled to keep her tone even as she breathed a shaky inhale. 

“Thanks again for the cookie tray, Chloe,” the nurse said as she fastened a blood pressure cuff around Beca’s upper arm. “We almost went to war over the snickerdoodles at the nurses’ station.”

“Snickerdoodles are my speciality!” Chloe beamed. 

The nurse continued checking out Beca’s vital stats and her brow furrowed. “Hmm… that’s odd. Your heart rate is elevated. Are you feeling okay?”

Beca’s head jerked upward, bobbing in a quick nod. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Super good. I’m awesome.” She cast a look over at Chloe, who smiled and shrugged sheepishly. 

“It’s not too concerning, but make sure you use your call button if you start feeling unwell in any way, okay?”

“Got it, yup. Call button. Definitely. Will do.” She flung an enthusiastic finger gun at the nurse for good measure. “Thanks.”

The nurse bustled out of the room, jotting a few notes on her clipboard along the way. 

Chloe wasted no time, steadying herself by bracing her hand on the side of Beca’s hospital bed to lean over and peel off her heels one by one.

“What are you doing?” Beca eyed her.

“Scooch over.” 

“What?”

“Beca,” Chloe grinned, tugging back the blankets. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.” 

Another snort passed Beca’s lips but she obliged, mindful of her ribs as she shifted toward the far side of the small bed. 

Meanwhile, Chloe climbed in beneath the blankets, reaching across Beca’s body for the bed controls. “Oooh, high tech,” she cooed with a wink, pressing the button to lower the bed into a deeper reclining position. “Much better.” With that situated, she slipped her arm across Beca’s middle and snuggled into her side, sighing happily. “I missed you a lot, you know.”

“It’s only been like six days since we’ve--”

“Still,” she insisted. “I was really scared when you flew backward and hit the ground like that.”

 

Beca wrinkled her nose, guilt panging in her chest. “Sorry I scared you. I guess I was just…” She blew out a puff of air. “Distracted, frustrated with--stuff. Not taking care of myself.”

“That’s a bad habit of yours, Becs. That’s why you need me to help you take care of you when you’re all stressed out.”

Beca chuckled, hugging Chloe tighter and dropping a kiss to the crown of her head. “You’ve been really good at that. I’d probably be way worse if we hadn’t been--” Heat crawled up her neck and she pressed her lips together. “Y’know.”

“Mhm, I know.” Chloe’s hand found Beca’s knee and crept upward. She grinned against Beca’s shoulder when Beca’s breath audibly caught. “So I’ve been reading up on how concussions affect orgasms.” 

“You--what?” She shook her head. “Nevermind, I’m not even that surprised. What… uh, what did you learn?”

“Well,” Chloe’s fingertips traced soft, nonsensical patterns along Beca’s inner thigh. “While your brain heals, you’re supposed to do minimize _all_ types of stimulation, like--avoiding staring at screens too much--”

“--yeah, the nurses told me to chill with how much I work on my laptop--”

“Exactly. And stress, loud noises, thinking too hard, getting your heart rate up for too long--they could trigger concussion headaches and delay your recovery.” 

Beca nodded. “That’s… shitty, yeah. But my headaches haven’t been too bad today and yesterday.” 

“Good,” Chloe said. “I also read orgasms might be more difficult to achieve for a while. I don’t want to make it worse, but I also know how stressed you’ve been and I’m sure you could probably use a little relief. So we’re walking a fine line here, Becs. I’m gonna need you to be _really_ truthful with me, okay?”

“Truthful?” 

“Yes.” Chloe’s fingers slid upward between Beca’s legs, dipping beneath the hemline of that hospital gown. “I’m going to touch you, but if it’s too much--if your head starts hurting or you feel uncomfortable in _any_ way, you need to tell me to stop, okay?”

Beca’s breath hitched again and her head jerked upward, bobbing in an eager nod. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Shit. Yes I promise.” She licked her lips in anticipation before she raised her casted hand lying uselessly at her side. “M’not sure how I can return the, uh--favor--”

“Shhh, it’s okay. We can figure that out when you’re out of here. Tonight’s about you.” 

“Chlo--”

“Merry Christmas, Becs.” Chloe’s body pressed more firmly against Beca’s side as she ghosted her fingertips over the heat of Beca’s cotton underwear. 

“Jesus, Chloe,” Beca rasped, shuddering as her gaze flickered over to the open doorway. A nurse strolled by flipping through more paperwork. A scrubs-clad doctor passed seconds later, walking the other direction. “Holy shit, there’re people, like-- _right there_ \--nurses and doctors--”

“So stay quiet,” Chloe husked, her tongue slowly tracing the shell of Beca’s ear, bumping over the hardware lining her cartilage. “I know it’s not easy for you to keep the noises down, but I always believe in you.”

Beca could _feel_ Chloe’s smirk against her ear and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t wrong, but a fresh flush rose on her skin for being called out like that. She blamed Chloe. Nobody else elicited such intense reactions from Beca, the normally quiet Bella always having a difficult time keeping her vocal responses in check in situations like this. 

Even in a mostly dark fucking hospital room with colored Christmas lights strung up around the bed, thanks to the Bellas. Beca hated hospitals, she hated Christmas, but Chloe…

A soft grunt passed Beca’s lips as she arched her hips upward, questing for more pressure. 

“What do you need, baby?” Chloe purred, and goosebumps prickled on Beca’s forearms from the resulting shiver. 

“More,” Beca whimpered, realizing she sounded pathetic but she couldn’t help it. (Again, she felt that satisfied smile--this time pressed against her jawline as Chloe peppered open-mouthed kisses there.)

“Hmm…” Chloe nipped at the skin there. “How’s your head?”

“Fine. Good. Great,” Beca insisted in a pressured whisper. “Promise, m’good.” 

A hoarse chuckle escaped and Chloe gingerly tugged Beca’s underwear to the side, parting her slicked folds with her middle finger. “I really, really missed you, Beca.” 

Beca swallowed sharply, biting down so hard on her lower lip she nearly broke the skin. “M-missed you, too,” she managed, her breathing growing more labored by the moment. 

Chloe’s touch wasn’t hurried as it usually was during their clandestine meetups in the Bellas house, where they usually crashed together in a rush of want and need in a tangle of frantic limbs. This time, Chloe’s fingers dragged through her lower lips almost lazily, blindly mapping her as she peppered Beca’s shoulder with kisses--the change of pace proved frustrating yet achingly satisfying all at once. “Still okay, Becs?”

Beca opened her mouth to speak but only a gravelly moan escaped. She nodded again, sucking in a sharp breath through her nose. “More. Please, Chlo.”

“Mm… since you asked so nicely…” Chloe circled Beca’s entrance with her middle finger before easing her way inside Beca’s wet heat, continuing on with her thrusts in an unhurried, exploratory fashion. “Y’know, Becs,” Chloe started, pressing a line of soft kisses against the underside of her jaw. “When I said I missed you… I didn’t only mean _this_.”

Beca’s inner walls tightened with need as Chloe inched one finger in and out of her, and she gasped when Chloe slowly added a second. It took her concussed, aroused brain a few extra seconds to process those words. “You--wha--huh?” And maybe, even then, she still didn’t fully understand.

Or maybe Beca was always a little bit of a dumbass where feelings were concerned. 

Chloe, ever patient, smiled against Beca’s neck. “I missed you. All of you. Not just--the sex part,” she whispered. 

“I--” A lump formed hard and fast in Beca’s throat. Was Chloe saying what Beca thought she was saying? _Hoped_ she was saying? She couldn’t find the words to ask, not with Chloe’s fingers working magic between her legs. “M-me too,” she wheezed, her hand wrapped around Chloe’s body tightening its grip on her hip, nails digging crescent moon shaped marks into her side. 

Chloe didn’t seem to mind. She pulled her head upward to gaze at Beca with a serene sort of smile. “Yeah?”

Beca offered another frantic nod. “Y-yeah.” 

“ _Awes_ ,” Chloe whispered.

Beca huffed a chuckle. “Awes.” 

“How’s your--”

“Good,” Beca croaked, her eyes slamming shut as her uncontrollable babbling began. “Good, god, it’s so good. So, so--so good.”

Chloe recognized the moment where Beca passed the point of no return before Beca had, manipulating tight, slow circles around her clit with her thumb while she continued her lazy thrusting. 

“Chlo--Chlo, I--”

“I know, Bec. Let go for me. I’ve got you.” Chloe’s free hand reached up to gently urge Beca’s face toward hers so she could seal her lips over Beca’s, swallowing the muffled cry into a hungry kiss as Beca came hard, inner walls clenching in a spasmic flutter around her still thrusting fingers.

Beca’s body drew taut for a moment, and then she rode those blissful waves to shore, groaning against Chloe’s mouth as she full body twitched and trembled on that small hospital bed. “Oh, god,” she moaned, breaking the kiss with a gasp and a wincing chuckle. “Shit, ow--”

“Ow?” Chloe pulled up slightly, brow knitting with deep concern as she withdrew her (pleasantly cramped) hand from between Beca’s legs. “Is it your head? You promised you’d tell me if it started hurting--”

“No, it’s--my ribs,” Beca grimaced as she settled back against her pillow, laughing harder… which only served to add uncomfortable pressure against her healing rib cage. “Motherfucking--horse--reindeer--fucker.” It took another several seconds for Beca to catch her breath from that incredible climax and stop laughing at her ridiculous situation, cracking her eyes open to glassily blink up at Chloe. A fresh wave of guilt panged as she read the worry crinkled between her eyes. “I’m fine. Better than fine. I promise. Hey,” she panted, lifting her head once more to capture Chloe’s lips in a series of punctured, sweet kisses. “They’re tender as shit but it’s okay. You didn’t break me again, I promise.” 

Chloe eyed Beca. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Beca heaved a heavy, sated sigh, blinking up at Chloe through half-mast eyelids. “I really, _really_ needed that. Thank you. Best Christmas present or whatever you wanna call it.”

That reassurance rebounded Chloe’s spirits and she brightened again. “Told you Christmas doesn’t have to totally suck.” She beamed that ‘told-ya-so’ smile. 

Beca snorted, but she couldn’t wipe the smirk from her face if she tried. It all blew her mind--how Chloe stayed on campus instead of flying home to be with her parents for _her_ sake, how she orchestrated the sexy surprise Christmas present with cookie baking and lingerie and her own targeted concussion research. “You’re amazing, Chloe Beale.” When those words tumbled from her lips, she remembered Chloe’s qualifying statement earlier and, summoning her courage, she leaned in to rest her forehead to Chloe’s. “And I don’t just mean--with the sex stuff. I mean--”

“I know,” Chloe whispered, her smile softening. 

Beca brushed her lips over Chloe’s hairline, grateful Chloe tucked in for more snuggling. “So how good _are_ your snickerdoodles, anyway? Think they earned you an overnight?” Not that the hospital bed was comfortable in the slightest, but she selfishly wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“Mmm… maybe,” Chloe allowed, cuddling closer but remaining mindful of Beca’s sore ribs. “Tell ya what. I’ll at least stay until you fall asleep, and if I get kicked out I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Sound good?”

Beca’s heart soared. “Yeah. Sounds good.” She pressed her cheek to the crown of Chloe’s head and let her eyes flutter closed once more, silently marveling at how she found herself _here_ \--in a freakin’ hospital bed on Christmas Eve, with Chloe tucked against her side. 

“Merry Christmas, Becs.”

“Merry Christmas, Chlo.”

And thanks to Chloe--despite the concussion and broken ribs and wrist and the Bellas now having roadkill-related teasing ammunition for the rest of eternity--Beca truly had her first merry Christmas ever.


End file.
